The Heart On Fire
by Clatodesta
Summary: She was a little girl with a crush, who grew into a funny little woman with a love. He was a teenager who didn't care, who grew into a man who really didn't care. Can they battle the obstacles of Panem and realize what they both want?
1. Prolouge

**Prologue**

Effie Trinket first saw him on her huge television when she was just seven years old. Back then, her natural blonde hair hung in pretty swirls down her back. Of course, in true Capitol fashion, her parents had dressed her in ridiculous clothes, but she still had the purity of a child. She sat crossed legged on the floor, staring up at the impressive screen, when he appeared on the screen.

She stopped chewing on her chocolate coated strawberries as her eyes widened. He spoke casually, like he did not care that he was probably going to die, and sat back in his chair with a casual posture. Effie didn't really listen to what he was saying; she was far too engrossed in his face, his movements, and his twinkling eyes, full of life. She did manage to catch what he said near the end of his interview, stating that he didn't care about there being twice as many tributes, for they are all just as stupid. Little Effie Trinket laughed at this, and continued eating her strawberries.

Every single day she would get up early and rush to the television, and stay up to the early hours of the morning watching the 50th Hunger Games. Her heart would beat so fast that it had the sensation that it was going to explode whenever he came on the screen. She cheered when he beat the careers. She cried an unfathomable amount of tears when he held his district partner in his arms as she died. And she screamed a piercing scream when the axe hit his stomach. She was in more pain than he was. Her oblivious parents merely laughed off her 'crush'. But only when he was crowned victor did her heart really pour out. She jumped up and down, shouting his name, and begging and begging her parents to book seats for his victor's interview.

And when she saw him in real life for the first time, so close to the stage yet so far, he was the only one in the vast room.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Adjusting my wig carefully, I clip clopped down the hall for my interview with Seth Orderman, the head Gamemaker. Mr Orderman was a man of logic, I had heard, well I suppose you had to be when you were organising the biggest game of the country. The Hunger Games. I knocked on the door confidently, hoping to make a good impression.

"Come," he said from the inside. He didn't even look up at me. "Ah, Miss Trinket. Take a seat. Now, I am sure you are well aware of what this job entails, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"Good. No getting attached to tributes, no relationships with tributes, and most of all, stay professional. The whole country will be watching, Miss Trinket."

"I know."

"So why do you think you are up for the job of escorting?"

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

He dismissed me, and I walked out the door, bowing my head. I got the job! The interview was short and simple, I was the only candidate. No one wanted to work for District Twelve. I didn't, either, but I had to start somewhere. Maybe if I do a brilliant job they will upgrade me, maybe to District Four with that entire beautiful ocean. Yes, that can happen. I sighed a huge sigh of relief; I had a real and professional job, one that many looked up to. I was part of the Hunger Games now. I even get to say, 'may the odds be ever in your favour'! I squealed a little. Effie Trinket, escort, desirable, beautiful... I was getting carried away.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

As I stepped out of the hovercraft, I took in my surroundings. Everything seemed to have a coat of coal covering it. Everything was dirty, the trees, the ground, the buildings, the people... do they really expect to be welcomed in the Capitol looking like that? I was led to the Justice Building to meet the mayor and the camera crew. Endless amounts of people flitted around us, touching up our hair, our makeup.

And that was when I saw him, looking disgruntled but well dressed, with a stressed looking stylist trying to adjust his collar. I stepped back. It's not that I forgot about him. I never forgot about him. I saw him most years in the capitol, attending the mandatory parties. He never looked like he belonged, or even wanted to belong. No, I never forgot about him, so that was not why I stepped back in shock. I was shocked because, well, we would be working together. It had never crossed my mind that he would be mentoring, not once. But that was stupid, of course he would be mentoring, he was the only living victor from twelve. Stupid Effie! I took a deep breath, adjusted my wig (purple today), and went to introduce myself. However, my path was interrupted by an erratic makeup artist.

"Haymitch Abernathy for goodness' sakes! At least _pretend_ you're enjoying yourself!"

"Oh yeah, because sending pathetic children to their violent death is the highlight of my year. Yeah I really enjoy myself, don't I?" his voice was low, he spoke in an almost growl. To my surprise, it made me blush. Then he looked over in my direction. I realised I was staring. "What are you looking at, sweetheart?"

"Oh, well, I um..." no words would form, I was tongue-tied. How mortifying. I cleared my throat again, but he had looked away. Stupid Effie. Why would he have an interest in me anyway?

"Right people, come on now! It's time, it's time, and the crowd is out there! Chop chop!" the camera crew were rushing us all around, getting us into position to walk on the stage. First the mayor, then his family, next Haymitch, then myself. I wasn't shaking. I belonged here. I am Effie Trinket, the most important woman in the world. I didn't get nervous. Only... only Haymitch made me nervous.

Confidently, I strutted up to the microphone and addressed the crowd. They were all dressed in rags, oh how awful. It was clear the parents had made an effort with their children, but they were still dirty. And thin, oh how thin!

"Welcome, welcome! I welcome you all to this _exciting_ event! Who knows who is going to be chosen, and have the _honour_ of representing your district in the 68th Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favour." (Yes! I had said it!)

" Now, I believe the mayor would like to say a few words..." I smiled sweetly at the mayor as I stepped back and let him make his speech. I wasn't really listening. Just internally congratulating myself. I hope I had made a good impression on the mayor, on the children, on Haymitch...

The crowd clapped half-heartedly, signalling the end of his speech, and my turn on the microphone once again. "Ladies first!" I removed my glove, the same colour as the forget-me-not blue sky, and slowly dipped my hand in to the bowl. As I picked a piece of paper to reveal the name, I could sense that I was the only person in the entire district breathing.

"Brie Summers!" what a pretty name, I thought to myself. And as the crowd parted to reveal her, I could see she had a pretty face to match. She could do well if she won. Shakily, she walked up to the stage and mounted the stairs. She had dirty blonde hair and wide brown eyes, and wore a green dress. She looked about 14 years of age. "Hello dear," I greeted her.

"Any volunteers?" I was expecting none. None came up. I placed my hand in the bowl containing the boys' names.

"Stanley Summers..." my voice wasn't as enthusiastic this time as I read his name. There weren't a lot of people in District Twelve, meaning these two were most likely to be siblings. I heard the crowd gasp, and a woman fainted. Most likely the mother. The poor woman.

The boy that took to the stage, shaking, was tiny. He could only be twelve. This was not a happy reaping. I searched the crowd for volunteers, almost begging, when I remembered Mr Orderman's voice, now whispering in my ear, "Don't get attached."

Clearing my throat for the countless time today, I addressed the crowd. "What a beautiful pair of tributes!" I tried to keep my voice preppy. Surely this district hated me now, for it was no one's fault but mine that these siblings were going in the arena. Yes it was chance, horrible, detestable chance, but it was my carefully manicured hand that picked those particular pieces of paper. I bowed my head a little. I led them inside the Justice Building. Not a good way to start the job. Especially when I caught Haymitch's eye, he looked like he was sneering at me. Showing no remorse. Obviously drunk, or pure heartlessness. Most likely both.

When we were inside, he approached me. I could smell the drink on his breath. The closer he got, the more electricity I could feel. Could he feel it to?

"Nice job, sweetheart."


End file.
